


love we seldom keep

by snickerdoodlles



Series: wisdom of the old [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Inspired by official art, M/M, Mutual Pining, Tengu Hinata, Yokai AU, kami AU, kitsune atsumu, kitsune inarizaki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:14:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snickerdoodlles/pseuds/snickerdoodlles
Summary: It's dangerous out here in the forest.Be sure to come back soon.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu
Series: wisdom of the old [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660597
Comments: 6
Kudos: 132





	love we seldom keep

**Author's Note:**

> tengu x kitsune au vaguely inspired by [this official art](https://twitter.com/animehaikyu_com/status/1230764969857183744?s=20). unbeta'd af

There’s a demon in the garden.

Atsumu’s always sensitive to intrusions, a telltale shiver prickling up his spine and burying in his conscious right before the wind chimes sing their warnings. Across the room, Osamu looks up with a frown, glaring at the chimes swinging in a nonexistent breeze outside their window. Suna, napping next to him, flick his ears irritably.

Osamu jerks his head at Atsumu. _Go deal with it_.

Atsumu scowls at Osamu. He’d already been in the process of standing—it’s beneath his station, really, to be dealing with something as trivial as _clean-up duty_ —but as the spirit with the keenest senses, he’s always the one stuck doing it regardless of propriety. Worse is when Osamu orders him about, and Atsumu drags his feet on his way out the door just to enjoy the way Osamu’s eye twitches. He’s smiling ear-to-ear as he leaves their room, a little skip in his step as he makes his way outside.

The garden greets him with luscious smells of crisp grass and freshly bloomed flowers, all the sweeter thanks to the heavy smell of mulch underlying them. Atsumu stops just outside the doorway under the trellis so he can blink the sunspots out of his eyes—the weather’s perfect in the garden, as it always is. The perfect blue sky sits over the perfect green bushes and the perfect rainbow of flowers spilling from every nook to soak up the perfect gold sunlight. It’s overwhelming after being inside the temple’s neverending whites and soft dulled woods, but Atsumu quickly acclimates. The garden never allows anything else.

Atsumu closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose, lets the bright sweet scent of the wisteria hanging overhead settle him. He inhales again, and again, and the third breath brings the telltale hint of iron and ozone threading through the rest of the garden’s scents like a needle.

Atsumu’s eyes snap open and he locks in on the direction the scent is coming from, his tails already twitching with the begging trembles of excitement. Other clues begin to reveal themselves as he walks forward—shadows stretching just a little too long, a little too dark; snapped twigs and crushed leaves unable to heal themselves. They become more and more apparent as Atsumu progresses down the trail, the garden’s magic weakening the further he walks from his home. Out here, the garden is more green than flowers, vines growing like blankets over the thick, crumbling masonry of stone walls and hedges standing tall in the gaps where the rock’s given way completely. Atsumu’s smile comes back full force when he finds the little gap in the demon left between two of such hedges, their branches curled and gently smoking around the edges of the slight opening.

Atsumu ducks through without hesitating, emerging into the forest. Technically, the forest is also considered to be part of the garden, as it surrounds and pushes into the temple’s territory. But it’s older—older magic, older wisdom, and quite uncaring of the gods and their territories. It’s a different, more dangerous world out here in the forest than the eden of the garden, for all they’re meant to be the same. The tall beech trees and thin mists filter the sunlight into a perpetual gold-silver twilight. The only flowers here are tiny little white buds occasionally dotting the moss clinging to the trunks, and instead fungi and creeping moss fill the crevices of the forest. The damper air and musk of the shrooms sharpen the demon’s scent, the tang of ozone so strong Atsumu can taste it on his tongue.

Atsumu preens, his many tails curling and uncurling in anticipation. “Too easy,” he murmurs before trotting off. He hums to himself as he goes, the cheery tune carrying easily through the quiet forest. Slowly, the forest awakens around him, the mushrooms joining in with his song to encourage him along and the moss softly whispering directions. Atsumu’s skipping by the time a bubbling creek joins the melody, ears wiggling happily and the smell of a coming storm so thick it raises the hairs along the back of his neck.

His trail takes him under one of the oldest beech trees in the forest. Its roots are a tangled network slick with mud and creek water, but Atsumu pays that no mind as he swings around the moss covered trunk and skips over to the muddy bank. He skids to a halt abruptly, head tilted back so that he can see most of the twining silver branches dripping with leaves, tails waving happily behind him. His eyes lock on one particular clump, despite no appearance of it being anything other than a normal clump of green-silver leaves, and says cheerfully, “Hiya Shouyou-kun!”

Silence greets him. Atsumu’s smile doesn’t waver from that spot, not even as a beat passes, then two. Then, the leaves twitch mullishly, sulking better than any leaves could conceive how to sulk, and Atsumu’s ears echo with a loud _pop_.

“Dammit,” whines the demon right before he pops into existence. His cheeks are puffed out in a deep pout that’s _adorable_ , and the demon pointedly scoots just out of Atsumu’s line of sight. “No way you found me so fast, you cheated.” Hinata glares at Atsumu’s feet where a tittering nest of fungi huddles under the old tree’s roots. “Traitors.”

Atsumu bares his teeth in a sharp grin and taps his nose. “Rude, that was entirely talent.”

The fungi protest angrily, sounding like deer trodding through the forest, but they pale in comparison to Hinata’s bright laughter. Sounds of screeching winds and crashing thunder curl along the edges of the brash giggles, and Hinata’s hair flares as though he were caught in an invisible storm.

The yearning in Atsumu’s chest howls a storm of its own against his ribs, threatening to crack him open and burst forth like how the flowers further in their realm yearn for the sunlight, back in the warded garden with it’s thick rock walls and perfectly orderly bushes. Such things are too apparent, too easily wilted and crushed out here where trees stand older than time and creatures don’t care about status or boundaries, so Atsumu locks the storm up tight and hides between his smile and lidded eyes. “I suppose I can give the moss a little credit.”

The mushrooms grumble gently around him. Atsumu barely hears them as Hinata bursts into a new round of laughter, this time accompanied by a burst of smells like the metallic tang of dark clouds and tingling fizzle of static electricity.

Atsumu hides his smile behind his hand, all too aware of it stretching a little too wide, a little too soft. “You know what has to happen next, Shouyou-kun,” he calls, taking his hand away to crook a finger at the demon.

“ _Already_?” Hinata whines with a pout. Atsumu can’t help the way his smile grows, even as he raises an eyebrow and points to the ground in front of him.

“I’m waiting…”

Hinata snorts but hops off his branch easily enough. “ _Fine_.”

Hinata’s wings flare out behind him as he descends, and it never fails to amaze Atsumu how huge Hinata’s wings are. It’s hard to tell when he has them tucked away behind his back, but when expanded, they’re nearly three times his height wing tip to wing tip. The glossy black feathers are the dark black of a stormy night, shining blue-silver and red-gold in the weak dappled sunlight. Hinata flaps them once, twice, before dropping to the ground. He stretches, arms pushed up high and back arched like a cat’s, wings fluttering to help him keep his balance on the damp forest floor.

Atsumu’s gaze follows the soft line of Hinata’s wings to the curve of his spine and back. He doesn’t realize Hinata’s stretching longer than he needs until he catches Hinata staring at him from beneath hooded eyes and Atsumu flushes darkly, tails curling in embarrassment. Hinata doesn’t give him a chance to make excuses, bounding over and grabbing Atsumu’s arm. “After you, Atsumu-san!”

Atsumu’s tongue is glued to the roof of his mouth, words stolen by the swooping sensation in his gut. He smiles weakly in return to Hinata’s smile and forces himself to start walking, tails nudging Hinata to walk alongside him. Hinata squeezes Atsumu’s arm gently as he does, and it takes another minute for Atsumu to free his tongue.

“Y’know, you really should stop trespassing.” Atsumu wants to hit himself. Or bite off his own tongue. He does neither. “This is kitsune territory after all.”

Hinata snorts. He steps closer to Atsumu’s side, cheek pressed along Atsumu’s bicep as he looks up from beneath his fringe with those big gold eyes. Atsumu stumbles and turns away, burning from his cheeks to his stomach. “Do _you_ want me to stop visiting?”

Atsumu looks forward, lips pressed together tightly.

Hinata snorts softly. He doesn’t move away from Atsumu’s side. “The forest doesn’t belong to anyone.”

“And yet you’ll listen to me when I say you’re trespassing,” Atsumu says lightly.

Hinata hums neutrally. “Am I?” Atsumu can feel those wide eyes on him, and he swallows back the sweet words blooming on his tongue. They continue in silence, just the whispers of the moss and mushrooms and other woodland creatures hiding along the edge of the kitsune gods’ realm to fill the spaces of their unasked questions. Occasionally, Hinata’s wings brush against Atsumu’s tails, setting off the screaming storm in him once more.

Bringer of storms indeed.

Atsumu’s chest feels as though it might burst when they finally come to a stop. The forest doesn’t appear any different here than it had a hundred meters ago, still tall silvery trees and soft moss and lingering mists. But Atsumu waves Hinata forward. “Anywhere past here isn’t ours, so you’re free to fly wherever.” Atsumu frowns and taps his chin. “Well, maybe watch out for Omi-kun’s territory…”

Hinata merely hums. He’s still watching Atsumu, those big gold eyes unrelenting. “Do you actually know where the edge is, or are you just guessing like you have in the past?”

Atsumu laughs airily, only a beat late. “Oh Shouyou,” he says between giggles, staring at the tengu with lidded eyes, “Of course this is our edge, all kitsune can feel it!”

Hinata raises an eyebrow and hums. He taps Atsumu’s shoulder, lips pushed into a thoughtful pout and wrecking Atsumu’s concentration. Then, he yanks Atsumu’s arm, pulling the kitsune down closer to his eye level. He doesn’t apologize for Atsumu’s loud yelp, just leans in close until all Atsumu can see is him, and cocks his head to the side. “I think you’re lying, Atsumu-san.”

Atsumu whines softly. It’s all he can manage.

Hinata nods, serious and earnest. “Mhmm. I’ve been putting markers in the trees. Wouldn’t want to trespass again after all.”

Hinata’s face is _so close_.

“They don’t make a pattern at all. Some double back on each other and everything.”

“That so?” Atsumu asks, breathless.

Hinata grins. This close, Atsumu can see the sunlight shining in his eyes. How curious for a tengu. Hinata pushes closer still, bringing the smell rain and tickle of lightning about to crack until it overwhelms all other senses. Atsumu can feel the faintest brush of Hinata’s lips against his cheek, soft like the misty morning rains, as electric as a summer thunderstorm.

“Tengu don’t have borders, Atsumu-san. Neither does the forest. And neither, I think,” Hinata whispers with a pull on Atsumu’s arm, “do you.”

Atsumu says nothing. He can’t find the words. But Hinata’s said what he has to say, and just pulls back with a curling laugh like thunder and wind and kicks off to the sky, wings huge and majestic. He’s beyond the treetops soon and out of Atsumu’s sight just as fast, leaving the kitsune spirit gaping dumbly in his wake. A single feather, black as ink, flutters down to him, and Atsumu snatches it from the air without a thought. He stares at that feather for a long time in the silence, feels the storm it brings within him longer, before he can finally collect himself enough to go home back to the temple with all its safe walls and expectations.

It’s dangerous, out here in the forest.

(And _oh_ , how Atsumu yearns to visit again.)

**Author's Note:**

> there's a bigger story to this one, i just don't know it yet. i'll add onto the series instead of this one-shot if i do find it (continue series for atsuhina week perhaps?? hmm). in the mean time tho, i shall be yelling my way thru [atsuhina mer au](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22712248/chapters/54278500), so check that out if it strikes your fancy
> 
> [fic post on twit](https://twitter.com/adoranoodle/status/1237662054544105472?s=20)  
> (come say hi!)


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